The Good, the Bad and the Biscuit

Lunch: the time of day during which you dump random unhealthy junk into your mouth hole with the excuse that you are planning on working out later.

Lunch is typically one of my favorite times of the day.  I come back from my morning classes, drop off my backpack in my dorm, and head straight to the dining center.  For me, lunch typically doesn’t involve much excitement. That is unless you count those semi-rare occasions in which I unknowingly eat a piece of food containing incredibly spicy foreign material, leaving me in a state of blindingly painful and sweaty panic.  On those unfortunate days I usually end up leaving the dinning center looking like a mess. However, that happened last week, and I can’t handle one of those situations more than once a month, since I’m worried my body might just give up on me.

the good the bad and the biscuit-1

Instead I opted for slightly less ethnic food and chose some mashed potatoes, ham, and a biscuit.  As I picked up my biscuit I noticed that it seemed unusually hard, but I figured it was bad manners to put it back.  I then turned to find my typical eating spot and, not seeing the small man behind me, I nearly shoved my plate of food into his face.

I immediately did a fancy spin move to avoid that scenario.  I must have thrown some extra fanciness into that particular spin move, and tried too hard to avoid that man’s face, because the next thing I knew my biscuit was sailing through the air.

I watched as it flew toward the table two feet away from me and landed in the nearest girl’s full glass of milk.  I feel as though I should have been surprised, but in all honesty, the only thought running through my head was “…….Yep. I just checked again. It’s definitely in her milk.”

Not having much of an excuse and lacking the time necessary for a proper apology, I sauntered up to the girl’s table and simply said, “Sorry, my biscuit was a little dry. Thanks.”  And with that, I plucked my biscuit from her glass and continued on my way.

the good the bad and the biscuit

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And the winner is….

This week was hectic.  I had two exams, both of which seemed to strip away all of my hopes and dreams, and a large project to complete.

Yesterday was my Calculus II midterm and, needless to say, I was dreading the entire day leading up to it. I studied from the end of my last class until about 7:50 P.M., when I realized that I had lost track of time and only had roughly fifteen minutes to make it to my test.  I rushed out of my dorm room and hurried to the bus stop outside my building.

When I got outside, I found a bus already there waiting for me.  I quickly noticed that I was not the only one trying to find a bus last minute, as there were about ten other people hurrying towards it.  There were so many people already on the bus heading to tests of their own that, as we all approached it, the bus driver announced that he could only take one more person.  Normally I would have been nice and let someone else get on, but this was my calculus grade at stake and I couldn’t let anyone get in the way of that.  I began walking even faster towards the bus to ensure that I was that one lucky person who was able to take the last spot.

I glanced to my left to see a tall, fairly broad, kid making a beeline for the bus doors.  He was about equal distance from them as I was, and there was no way I was letting him get there first.  I put on a little extra speed and, as we neared the doors, I thought I was going to make it there safely in first place.  I was one step from the bus when it happened.

In my haste to secure that last spot for myself, I failed to notice the large strip of ice on the edge of the sidewalk.  I firmly planted my foot right in the middle of the ice strip and found that there was no more friction holding me in place.  I slid forward and was thrown in the entryway of the bus, landing sprawled across the stairs.  Figuring I couldn’t embarrass myself any more than I had already, I proceeded to slowly crawl up the last two steps and into the bus.

And the winner is

Who was the winner? Definitely not Brendan’s dignity, that’s for sure.  And as for the calc test…well lets just say that I can’t believe I try this hard just to be this poor.

Physics and Uranus

Wednesday I awoke to find that the winter weather had seemed to somewhat dissipate.  It was in the upper 40’s and so I opted for a nice pair of sweatpants and a comfortable long sleeve t-shirt to wear to class.

The morning seemed to drag on endlessly, so by the time I made it to physics, I was excited by the fact that this would be my last class of the day.  I typically try to sit in one of the back two rows of the lecture hall, for no other reason than me just generally not wanting to sit at the forefront of a couple hundred people, but today I found no empty seats and instead sat towards the end of the third to last row.

When class finally ended, I hastily gathered my things and went to stand, unaware of the peril that my pants and dignity were currently in.  Not knowing that a loose screw on the side of my seat had snagged the edge of my sweatpants, I was utterly shocked when they were yanked to my knees as I stood.

Physics and Uranus 2

To make matters worse, my boxers had apparently decided that it would be fun to expose my bum to the twenty some odd people behind me, and so they joined my sweatpants for the ride.

Physics and Uranus

Fortunately I was quick enough to stop the front of my pants from dropping far enough to cause me to flash the rest of the lecture hall, though the screw did succeed in showing off my lovely derrière, in all its ashen glory, to the lucky souls behind me.  I quickly seized my pants and hoisted them up as fast as I could, making my way from the lecture hall and trying to distance myself from the uncontrollable laughter erupting behind me.  I don’t know how many people saw, and I sure as hell was not about to turn around and risk making eye contact with any of them, but judging by the amount of laughter I’m guessing it was quite a few.

I just hope they will only be able to recognize me by my bare derrière; and since they most likely won’t be seeing it again, I don’t think that I will have to worry about them knowing whose fanny it was.  Note to self: you should probably start checking for loose screws from now on.